Vengeance
by ThanatosConnery
Summary: The Kingdom of Tamaran burns as the last monarchy of it is snuffed out. Princess Starfire is sent into exile, but Tim Drake isn't done fighting yet. Tie in to The Good Fight.


Smoke filled blue skies over the last vestiges of a crumbling kingdom. A thousand rebel cannons lashed out on alchemically enhanced walls surrounding the capital city that they formally served. Though these walls were the strongest of their kind, the cannons gradually took their toll on them, chipping them away piece by piece. Loyal cannons made a lackluster attempt at fighting back, and together their noise came to create a thunderous overture of chaos.

Rebel soldiers charged across the fields that separated the city's walls from the great forests of the nation of Tamaran. They carried rifles, ladders, swords, bows, and crossbows; anything they could use to accomplish the daunting task of occupying a city filled with loyalists. Many carried nothing at all, hoping to pick up weaponry from fallen comrades on the way.

Loyalist soldiers in gray suits stood on the walls to complement their brass cannons. It was as disorderly and desperate as on the fields. Officers barked ignored or misheard orders over the gunfire while infantry shot madly into the dashing rebels for their lives. There was no more hope than there was mercy, for even if one didn't have sight of the massive amount of troops in the woods, the enemy defenders could see alone seemed to outnumber them twenty-to-one.

In the city, throngs civilians ran amok in the street with very little order around to control them. Some hauled luggage, hoping to escape the city before the invading rebels found their way inside (a futile effort considering it was surrounded.) Many others begged the few soldiers trying to keep the crowds at bay for information. And as in any situation of anarchy, thieves were there to take advantage of it. They bashed in shop windows, looted homes, and some of the more vicious among them even held up people on the street.

Still, many remained in their homes, content that the invading rebels meant no harm to them. The civil war had gone on for months and even those far from combat zones knew what the rebels' intentions were. They wished to dispose of the monarchy, or so they said. While many in the present unified rebel force had different reasons for this, the start of the war came from the idea that the Queen Myandr' was far from who she said she was. In fact, one would literally have to look into the bowels of the hellish dimension that crisscrossed with the natural one to find her origins. For many believed she was no mere mortal, but a demon by the name of Azimandius; a _shapeshifting_ demon.

Demons were said to be beings of great, twisted power. They used this power to cultivate evil, the only thing they ever knew and loved. Fortunately, they were said to only be able to enter the real world if someone were to summon them. Naturally, because of their rarity they tended to fade into myth and legend between appearances. This was true in Tamaran until nearly fifty years past, when one appeared in the real world. He was called 'The Great Destroyer', and he held up to his name. Villages and towns burned in his wake while forests splintered beneath his feet. Only through the combined efforts of the world's greatest sorcerers was he finally sealed. Because of the calamity he caused, any talk of demons immediately gathered people's attention.

The initially absurd assertion that the Queen was one first spread as whispers in the bordering towns of the nation, far from the listening ears that seemed to exist everywhere in the central lands. Naturally, many viewed the rumors as nothing more than paranoia… until 'proof' began appearing. 'Proof' such as mysterious tattoos, or 'brandings', that were starting to be given to higher-ranking officers, tattoos that were rumored… and then proven to be given to them by the Queen personally.

At first, nobody regarded these marks as anything but a sign of loyalty. However, suspicions were raised when these commanding officers who received them began to behave differently. Soldiers and even loved ones began noticing as they became more callous, colder, and calculating. It was then that the idea was put into people's minds that these marks were a way for the Queen to control her armies directly, as if she was a puppet master pulling their strings. At the very least, many began viewing that as some form of magic that increased aggression. When these commanding officers began giving the marks to lower officers and then finally them to whole battalions, alarms began to be raised tenfold. The powder keg was filled and all it would need now was a spark. That spark would be absolute proof, proof that would be provided by the Queen's own daughter.

She reportedly escaped the capital city in the dead of night after she had overheard a conversation between the Queen and a lesser demon. From her people learned the Queen intended to use the armies of Tamaran to conquer bordering nations with little regard to collateral damage. This 'proof' came right after an unpopular border skirmish had started with the southern nation of Railos. That was all it took; a civil war began. Of course, there were many other reasons besides the paranoid ones. While some rebels truly believed the stories, others were already upset with the current government, and of course; some even had personal reasons such as revenge. The powder keg exploded and tore the nation to pieces; it started with small rebellions in the southlands and culminated in full scale mass-desertions by the troops who had not been marked. And now, it was all coming to one, big, bloody end.

Tim Drake watched on a distant hill as the walls of the Keep in the center of the city were pounded by long range artillery. He sighed and narrowed his eyes. Inside the Keep was a stubborn princess, someone who had been special to him since he was a little boy.

Princess Koriand'r… She was crush and an impossible dream, but one he tried with all his mightiest to fulfill. And he had, by god, he had. It took him years and years but eventually he gained a title that would allow him to court her: Knight of the Iron Serpent, one of the elite soldiers of the Monarchy. It was a title worth working for just to have, but Tim never lost sight as to his purpose of gaining it. One brave and nervous night he dared to ask her father's permission to take her out to the city. His enthusiasm for the proposition was vast, and Koriand'r being the infinitely sweet soul she was naturally accepted.

She was so beautiful that night, dressed in a silky white dress a full moon shined off. Tim remembered picking her up at the drawbridge to the main keep. His mind was racing with thoughts as he approached his destiny; should I hold her hand? Would it be lame if I asked her for a forest stroll? What should they talk about? Did the wax he have in his hair make him look lame? Would she mind if he never took off his mask… god what a dork he must be for wearing it. Oh lord… just a few steps.

"_H-Hello… Princess Koriand'r, uhhh… you look… really pretty." _He managed to stutter out. He had to resist with all his might to give himself a face palm. Oh god, THAT was what he had to say with her? Oh man… I'm trying to date a princess… what am I doing? He half expected her to immediately label him as 'fool' and spend the evening barely paying attention to him, or at the least worst politely smile and make awkward small talk with him while giving him subtle hints that a relationship just wouldn't work.

He did not expect her to giggle and grab his hand before dragging him into the city. It was then he knew he had made the right choice; his life's work wasn't for nothing. The date went spectacular and it didn't take them long to fall in love after that. Unfortunately, right before Tim was about to propose he was called away to battle the growing rebel army. He expected it to be over within months with a flawless victory, but now, here he was, watching the Kingdom crumble. She was once again out of his reach.

Princess Koriand'r was a good soul, one who simply couldn't believe in the rumors that started the war. Tim wanted with all his might to make her seek proof of her mother's innocence, but he simply couldn't stand the thought that Koriand'r's may find out something she shouldn't have. Being semi-suspicious, he took it upon himself to do what investigating he could on the front lines. Though the marks seemed odd, he simply couldn't see how they were anything more than a mark of loyalty, and the only other source of 'proof' he did not trust; Koriand'r's sister.

Tim had lived in the castle for a time and had the misfortune of getting to know her. While she was perfectly sweet to the upper-class, the way she treated people beneath her disturbed him. It seemed like whenever she could be, she was mean-spirited to people.

"_How long does it take for you to cook dinner, servant!"_

"_You incompetent twat! I've told you for the last time that my room is to be cleaned exactly at 12 noon when I'm not using it! Get out of here!"_

"_Fool! The water in my bath is too hot! Bring some cold water in at once!"_

Tim didn't like her and he definitely did not trust her word. The Queen on the other hand was always polite, generous, and kind in private. He couldn't possibly imagine her to be a demon. Therefore, as the civil war turned worse and many in his own army group began deserting, he decided to keep his loyalties to the Kingdom. Though he was supposed to be fighting in the North, rumors of a planned attack on the capital city caused him to take pause in his duty. He had to make sure his love was safe. Now, an army blocked his path, one that would likely breach the walls within two hours.

Tim was just going to have to spoil that for them.

He loaded his pistols, raised his black cloak's hood over long hair, and prepared himself mentally for battle. With intense meditation, his fear, his sentimentality, and any other distractions were slowly discarded. When he came out of it, he was no longer Tim Drake, He was Raptor. It was a name that brought fear to his enemies and hope to his allies. It was what his training turned him into.

He took a deep breath and made his way down the hill and into the thick woodlands that surrounded the capital city, his cloak flapping in a light, smoke-filled breeze. It was a dim place, the canopy made sure of that. However, he could still see decently as he made his way through the untamed brush. He wanted with all his heart to increase his speed, but knew he would need to take it slow and keenly observe his surroundings. Though he didn't expect any ambushes, he didn't want to meet the eye of a rebel who may catch him off guard.

He eventually found a path through the forest; a small dirt wagon trail that twisted on into the woods. He could tell it had been used recently; footprints and wagon trails covered it. The rebels had great numbers that was for sure.

He started walking down the path, but it wasn't long before he was forced to pause and duck into a thick brush when he heard voices behind him.

"Personally, I don't see why we even need to bother with the cannons. Can't that sorceress just take down the walls with her mind?"

"She isn't really that powerful, man. Plus, what would happen if she was killed?"

"Why, we dig under the walls of course."

"We dig under the walls?"

"Right."

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

After a moment, the two had made their way down the path far enough for raptor to feel safe poking his head out. He chuckled slightly at the conversation before he cautiously proceeded down the path. All he would have to do is follow it and he'd likely find a contingent of rebels. As he went on the low background thunder of cannons firing became louder and louder. When it started to become annoying, he knew he was close.

He decided to creep off the beaten path and into the woods at this point. He followed the sounds of cannon blasts and eventually, through the brush, he saw what he was looking for. A number of them lined the edge of the forests, firing across the open field before them and into the walls. If he could just disable those, it would help forestall the invasion.

He readied his pistols and was just about to attack when someone tapped his shoulder. His eyes widened and he twirled around with a finger on the trigger. However, instead of meeting a rebel, he meant a young woman, a woman with purple hair. He knew who she was immediately.

"Rachel Roth." Tim Drake said with a hint of disgust before lowering his pistol "What do _you_ want?"

"That's a nice way to treat someone who's preventing your suicide." She said in her delightfully drone-line voice.

Raptor raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know exactly what you're doing creeping up behind our cannons, but I'm assuming your planning on pulling some sort of heroic charge towards them."

Raptor huffed: "Perhaps I am about to join them?"

"Oh please, everyone knows you're still a loyalist." Raven said. "You're not fooling me."

"Oh, I see. Well then, I suppose the rumors are true for you too? You're trying to butcher an innocent family out of paranoia?"

A beat. The scene grew silent other than the constant pounding of cannons.

She decided to break it first, "Listen to me, Tim. You trust me, right?"

Tim lowered his eyebrows, "I'm not so sure anymore."

"How many battles have we fought together, Tim? How many people have we watched _die _together."

"It doesn't matter; the rumors can't possibly be true." Raptor said defiantly while turning his back on her.

Rachel was not about to stop. "If you don't believe anyone else, believe me. Those marks the Queen was giving out? They aren't just marks. I don't know exactly what they do but there's definitely demonic energies emanating from those who have them. I'm a sorcerer; I _know_ these kinds of thing."

"You're either lying or mistaken." Tim growled, turning back towards her. "There's no way Starfire's mother is a demon. There's just no possible way."

"Maybe she wasn't always a demon, maybe she's only recently been replaced… I don't know. Please, Tim, _please_. Trust me on this one."

Tim brought a hand to his chin subconsciously, contemplating what she was saying.

"No," He finally said. "I still can't believe it. I won't let them enter the Keep and butcher the royal family. I won't let them kill Starfire."

"You really think they'll do that?" Rachel asked skeptically.

"They're angry, paranoid, and have been fighting all day. I damned well think they may try to take out everyone in that Keep, including Starfire, just because of the off-chance that they may not be who they say they are."

"Well, it seems your mind is made up." Rachel said sorrowfully. "However, your efforts end here." Her hands became encased in shimmering, black magic.


End file.
